


Devotion

by GothicPrincessWitch



Series: Fenris Appreciation Month 2k18 [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Dress Up, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Purple Hawke, Stockings, act three
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-29
Updated: 2018-11-29
Packaged: 2019-09-02 08:17:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16783183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GothicPrincessWitch/pseuds/GothicPrincessWitch
Summary: Everything in Hawke’s life is coming together, and he’s immensely happy to be back together with the love of his life at last. He and Fenris have planned a lovely little breakfast date together, but Fenris surprises Hawke with a much more filling meal.





	Devotion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [The_Tevinter_Biscuit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Tevinter_Biscuit/gifts), [scatteringmyashes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scatteringmyashes/gifts).



> This is a very early fic for Day 21: Worship of Fenris Appreciation Month 2k18, but I needed to post it as my 69th work on Ao3. For reasons. 
> 
> Special thank you to The-Tevinter-Biscuit, who requested Fenris in thigh highs, and my eternal thanks to scatteringmyashes for his endless encouragement <3 <3

It has been said thousands of times before and yet can never be emphasized enough: Garrett Hawke is the luckiest man in Thedas.

Everything is looking up for Hawke. He’s the Champion of Kirkwall and has a personal hand in trying to bring order to the city. He’s cultivated close relationships with the city’s Templars and with the other nobles as he continues his upwardly mobile trajectory toward the vacant viscount’s throne. He’s got power, prestige, money — enough so to be able to take care of his friends.

Despite everything Hawke has lost, he’s gained so much and has never been happier. A big part of that happiness, of course, is his wildly romantic relationship with the love of his life. After years of pining, they’re finally back together and absolutely reveling in how sickeningly sweet they are together.

Hawke loves Fenris with every part of his being, and nothing makes Hawke happier than being able to make Fenris happy every single day.

He has so many grand plans for Kirkwall and for himself, but above all else, he just wants to make Fenris smile whenever he can.

This particular morning, Hawke hope to make Fenris smile with a little surprise: a whole box of a dozen miniature apple custard tarts from the best and fanciest Orlesian bakery in Hightown. They’d already agreed to meet for breakfast before heading out to hunt bandits — _the_ _dashing_ _Champion_ _and_ _his_ _even_ _more_ _handsome_ _consort_ _off_ _to_ _save_ _the_ _day_ — and Hawke is eagerly anticipating that shy, surprised, and pleased expression which graces Fenris’s face whenever Hawke gives him a present.

No matter how much Hawke does for Fenris, Fenris never seems to expect any of it. Hawke simply has to keep showering Fenris with gifts and affection so that Fenris will finally understand how much he deserves love and happiness and every pleasure the world has to offer.

Letting himself into Fenris’s mansion via his key, Hawke calls out to announce himself, “It’s me, love! I’m here!”

“I am upstairs! Come join me?” Fenris calls out in response from the direction of his bedroom.

Locking the front door behind him, Hawke wastes no time in hurrying up the stairs. He is, after all, always delighted to accept an invitation to join Fenris in the bedroom. He opens the door and eagerly enters. Immediately his rehearsed charming remarks vanish from his tongue, and he nearly drops the paper box of tarts.

There, leaning casually against the bed, stands Fenris, sumptuously poised and alluring, with his lovely full lips curved into a smirk. Those long, limber legs are enswathed in sumptuous silk stockings, black and opaque and going midway up his sculpted thighs, held in place by black silk garter ribbons tied into bows. Fenris is also wearing the red silk favor upon his wrist — and nothing else.

Hawke stands there like an idiot, his jaw practically on the floor, and stares in awe at how breathtakingly and fascinatingly gorgeous Fenris is. Fenris exudes confidence in his reclaimed sexuality, and it adds all the more to just his incredible and perfect Fenris is.

The silver brands curling over Fenris’s brown skin are visible above the thigh high stockings, curving toward and around his cock, as if the lines of lyrium are meant to draw Hawke’s desirous eyes toward that perfectly shaped cock, which has begun to harden beneath Hawke’s heated gaze.

Hawke’s own penis is becoming hard to match, and it’s quite obvious through his pants despite his attempt to oh so nonchalantly adjust his stance.

Fenris’s smirk widens, his lovely, green eyes shining with playfulness and darkening with desire.

“I brought breakfast,” Hawke says once he finally has regained enough presence of mind to speak any words beyond _Maker_ , _how_ _I_ _want_ _and_ _adore_ _you_ , _my_ _love_.

“Oh, are you hungry?” asks Fenris with an innocence belied by his smoldering expression and lyrium-lined erection.

“Famished,” Hawke replies smoothly. “Just starving.” He’d been looking forward to the pleased look on Fenris’s face, but this look of pleasure is so much better. “May I eat my fill?” Hawke asks coyly.

“Please do.”

With a charming grin and a teasing wink, Hawke opens the box of pastries, pulls out a single apple custard tart, and takes a bite.

Fenris bursts into peals of laughter — that entrancing giggle which stole Hawke’s heart all those years ago.

“Hawke!” Fenris rolls his eyes very fondly as he giggles.

Hawke swallows and grins again. “Just whetting the appetite, my love.”

Setting the pastries down on the table, Hawke makes his way over to Fenris. He pulls off one red leather gauntlet and then the other, tossing them haphazardly behind him. The gauntlets are soon joined by his daggers, quiver, bow, and his armor, leaving him only in his trousers, red tunic, and boots. He still seems overdressed compared to Fenris.

And then he drops to his knees before the love of his life.

Leaning forward, he brings his lips to the silk over Fenris’s right ankle and presses a soft, gentle kiss to the spot. Fenris’s breath hitches. Hawke trails these sensuous kisses up the inside of Fenris’s calf, his lips gliding over the smooth silk stocking. He lingers at the knee, and he sees Fenris’s hands clutch the sheets on the bed behind him.

“Don’t stop, Garrett,” Fenris whispers breathlessly, as Hawke’s attentions become more lavish, his tongue and teeth joining in as he nibbles gently at the place where the silk stocking meets the skin of Fenris’s thigh. He then switches to Fenris’s left leg, again working his way up to the thigh with each caress of his mouth.

Every inch of Fenris deserves pleasure and worship, after all.

Hawke lingers at a sensitive spot on the inside of Fenris’s inner thigh, sucking just hard enough to leave a mark. Fenris’s cock brushes Hawke’s face and smears pre-cum in Hawke’s beard.

“Maker, you’re wonderful, Fenris!” Hawke murmurs these words of praise against Fenris’s skin and then begins teasing Fenris’s cock.

Hawke’s own cock is rock hard, swollen and straining against his trousers, and he fumbles to free it while never taking his eyes and lips off Fenris. After that, his hands wrap around Fenris’s waist to support and balance himself, and he glances up at Fenris’s beautiful face to make sure that’s alright. Fenris’s consent and comfort are what’s most important, and Hawke would never want Fenris to feel restrained or restricted during these most intimate and vulnerable of moments. And suddenly Hawke pauses, overwhelmed with emotion at the sight of Fenris’s expression, not just aroused and pleased but so very affectionate and in awe of Hawke.

It’s taken Fenris so long to be able to be comfortable with Hawke doing this for him, so long for Fenris to feel safe enough and free enough to explore his sexuality with Hawke like this. And honestly? Hawke is humbled that he gets this privilege of being able to give Fenris this healthy space to explore his wants and needs.

It’s a privilege Hawke values greatly to provide every pleasure he can for Fenris, and it’s an equally important privilege to be allowed to worship Fenris like this.

He pecks one last kiss on the head of Fenris’s cock before taking Fenris fully in his mouth.

“H-Hawke,” Fenris moans as Hawke takes him in as deeply as possible.

The sounds Fenris makes as Hawke sucks him off are what Hawke imagines bliss sounds like.

Suddenly, Fenris starts glowing, his lyrium markings lighting up through the silk stockings, washing his lithe legs in silver-blue glow. Hawke can feel the lyrium on Fenris’s penis burning his mouth and tasting like a lightning strike, but he does not pause in his ministrations, too entranced by each lovely moan uttered from Fenris’s lips.

“Garrett, I’m ready,” Fenris warns him, and then he cries out Hawke’s band again as he climaxes. Fenris practically melts, boneless, into the bed, supported only by Hawke’s loving hands upon his hips, while Hawke swallows. It’s a few minutes before the lyrium glow fades.

There’s cum in Hawke’s beard when he stands and flashes a dashing grin at Fenris, and Fenris looks at him with face flushed, eyes sparkling, and so very much love in his smiling expression — so very happy and yet astounded, dazzled even, that Hawke cares this much for him.

Draping an arm around Hawke, Fenris’s lips and tongue meet Hawke’s worshipful mouth, and Hawke nearly sinks to knees again from how weak this kiss makes him. Fenris’s other hand wraps around Hawke’s cock, skillfully and swiftly granting Hawke the release he craves.

Hawke doesn’t mind that Fenris does not suck him off. He knows reciprocating this particular favor is something which Fenris, with his past, is not ready for and may never be ready for. But sharing this intimacy together, making Fenris this happy, is all Hawke needs.

He melts into Fenris’s kiss and then into Fenris’s arms as they curl up on the bed together, murmuring words of their unending affection and devotion.


End file.
